Oh Boy, You Got It Bad
by jesuisnique
Summary: It wasn't David's fault that he fell in (to a more than slightly desperate) love with her. It really, really wasn't. Honest.


Perhaps it was the sway of her hips that caught David's eye first, or maybe it was the slow parting of her lips when she spotted him from across Main Street and shot him the heart with a smile. It could have been, quite possibly, the way her small hand clutched at his arm to steady herself when she tripped over her own feet, which grabbed David's attention the first time.

But it was most definitely _not_ David's fault that he couldn't stop looking for her everywhere he went. Sometimes he was convinced that she was behind his bathroom door, laughing at the bottle of Old Spice that was sitting on the shower floor beside Kathryn's many, odd smelling beauty products (seriously though, David would never understand why Kathryn needed three – _three_ – types of body wash when one would do fine thank you very much. And why, in the name of everything that was Good in this world, was there a need for a _eucalyptus and coconut_ smelling shampoo? It was something he wondered about when Kathryn went on one of her tangents about the difficulties of hair care for _natural_ blondes; it was also when he started thinking about the differences between Kathryn and her, especially the smell of their hair – and, strangely enough, the length of their eyelashes – and then David would shut that train of thought as quickly was he would run away from Kathryn's probing gaze when she caught him spacing out).

Other times he was sure that he heard her undignified snort coming from the passenger seat of his pick-up so when he looks over to defend himself from whatever slightly sarcastic (and oh so smart) she'll make, it's not his fault that when, instead of shining green eyes, he sees an empty seat he breaks in the middle of the road and has to count to ten fourteen times before he's able to breathe normally.

It was also (100%) not David's fault that he happened to make a habit out of going for early afternoon walks on Saturdays (by himself, of course. He only felt a tiny bit guilty about this because he told Kathryn that the reason he wanted to be alone was so he could think about his accident and try to come to terms with losing his memories. In actual fact David had come to terms with not remembering anything the moment she smiled at him in the hospital and said, "I'm sure whoever you are is _fantastic_." Coincidently, that was also the moment she stole his heart, but that is a truth David is not willing to face – at least not until she smiles at him again. Then he will be forced to admit that the warmth in his chest cavity isn't because of the cinnamon flavoured cocoa he's taken to drinking) to the old toll bridge where _she_ would be, drinking tea – four sugars and a little bit of milk – out of a Thermos, reading whatever fiction caught her fancy.

David would never interrupt her in these moments, content to watch the different expressions that would chase one another across her (wonderfully) expressive face as she fought dragons and Evil Queens, danced with wolves in the moonlight and ran away from Trolls after saving a damsel (or more likely, _prince_) in distress – all the while sipping away at her (second) favourite hot beverage. He was normally stay for a little while, taking in the sight of her (and her too full lips) before he forced himself to look away and head back to Kathryn and a house full of empty memories, replaying the memory of her over and over again until he thought his heart was going to burst.

So in reality it wasn't David's fault that he could barely sleep in the same bed as Kathryn because all he wanted to do was knock on her door (regardless of the time of day) and make her laugh until she cried. Or that when he forced himself to kiss Kathryn he closed his eyes and thought of her (hips swaying left to right like some damn pendulum) and the way she would tilt her head (ever so) slightly to the right when she listened to him talk about the newest animal he had saved, and not Kathryn with her eucalyptus and coconut smelling hair and slightly desperate lips.

In the end it wasn't David's fault that whatever fantastic person he was now didn't belong to Kathryn.

It was _her_ fault; from the first time he laid eyes on her David knew he was no longer his own man – he belonged to her – and it was most certainly not his fault that he couldn't find it within himself to give a damn. David knew he was a lost cause, forever doomed to chase after her warm eyes and sweet smile. Always thinking (always wanting) about her, forever one step behind t(his) beautiful creature.

He was a damned man, but it wasn't his fault (or that's what David tells himself when he catches himself staring at her from across Main Street).

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and stuff don't belong to me. Sadly. _


End file.
